


Adventures in Puppy-Sitting

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Cunnilingus, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Puppy Play, Spanking, eggsy and tequila are an established couple, ginger is just borrowing tequila to play with, puppy!tequila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Ginger asks Eggsy and Tequila if she can dog-sit for them.





	Adventures in Puppy-Sitting

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to read like there should be more to the universe, because it's not actually the first work. The stuff that should come before it just hasn't been written yet. I think it's still enjoyable without that, though, so enjoy Tequila being the cutest puppy in the world
> 
> Discussions of safewords and the like are not actually in the fic, but they are referenced, so rest assured that all this was thoroughly negotiated and discussed.

Ginger (she may be codenamed Whiskey now, but Tequila will always think of her as Ginger or Lizzie, and Eggsy can’t quite distance the codename from the last person to wear it) doesn’t approach them quite like the others. She’s more curious, less hesitant. She comes to see them in Eggsy’s office, which is less an office and more a place where Eggsy and Tequila curl up together to take naps on the sofa when they don’t have enough time between missions to properly go home, and the first thing out of her mouth is, “If I’m overstepping my bounds, please feel free to tell me to fuck off.”

Tequila sits up, glancing at Eggsy, who swings into an upright position and rests his elbows on his knees. “You been talking to Merlin and Harry?” he asks, because he recognizes that tone in her voice and knows exactly what she’s talking about.

She nods. “They said you were…looking to open up to new partners for this, and I thought, if that offer was available, that I might throw my hat in the ring.”

Tequila would be lying if he said the thought didn’t interest him, his cock twitching subtly even as he looks towards Eggsy again. Eggsy takes that look and says, “We’re interested. What did you have in mind?”

***

Tequila has been down all morning. It’s easier to get into the headspace like this, Eggsy putting his collar on first thing and then going about his own business, giving Tequila his breakfast on the floor – and handfeeding him bites off his own plate because even when he has a real dog and not a partner who pretends to be one, he can’t resist giving table scraps – and giving him pats and head scratches every time Tequila starts to shift restlessly. The thermostat is up for Tequila’s comfort, but it doesn’t stop him from being antsy with anticipation.

The doorbell rings, and Tequila growls, but Eggsy just strokes his hair and murmurs, “That’ll be her.” He gets up, Tequila shuffling after him on his knees. Tequila lets his tongue loll out of his mouth when Eggsy opens the door to Ginger, who is dressed in a conservative blouse and pencil skirt and carrying a small bag of supplies. As Eggsy lets her in, he says, “Thanks again for doing this. Last minute trip, you know, and I hate kenneling him.”

Tequila whines and cowers at the word, and Ginger reassures, “It’s not a problem. Happy to help.” As if the scenario hadn’t been her idea. Damn, she makes a good secret agent. She’s not perturbed by his nakedness either, although Tequila doesn’t know if it’s because she expected it or if she’s really just that unflappable.

“He’s already been fed this morning, and his list is on the fridge,” Eggsy tells her. The list is important; it includes Tequila’s hard limits – they’ve discussed them, but a reminder never hurts – reminds her that he won’t be talking but lists his safewords if he has to use them, and provides a few potential non-sexual and aftercare activities for her to do with him throughout the afternoon.

“I’m sure he’ll be a very good boy for me,” Ginger says. “If he’s not…” She lifts an eyebrow, and Eggsy grins.

“Punishments are on the fridge too,” he says. “But I doubt he’ll give you much trouble. Right, pet?”

Tequila barks eagerly and nuzzles into Eggsy’s hand. “Right,” Eggsy says, scratching him behind the ears. “I’ll just be gone until tomorrow morning. Be a good boy for Ginger.”

He will. He will be the best boy for Ginger, and he tries to convey that without using words. Ginger smiles. “Go on. We’ll be fine.”

Eggsy nods, glancing around one last time to make sure everything is settled, and then walks out the front door.

Ginger sets her case down on the floor and Tequila immediately goes over to investigate, biting gently at the zippers in an attempt to get it open. Ginger laughs. “Silly puppy. Now, let’s go look at your list, hmm?” Her voice is pitched up, like she’s talking to a real dog, and Tequila snuffles happily and follows her into the kitchen, where she takes the list off the fridge and examines it. He sits back on his heels, and when she glances over at him her gaze lingers between his legs. It’s not like she’s never seen his cock before – she is his doctor, after all – so her gaze is less appraising and more appreciative.

She returns her attention to the list. “Puppy likes baths, huh? Be a good boy, and we’ll definitely do that.”

Tequila’s not planning on being entirely good – there’s something on the list, one of the punishments, that he really, desperately wants to do, and he had discussed it with Ginger and Eggsy beforehand, so he knows it’ll happen – but he bobs his head eagerly in an approximation of a nod anyway. She reaches down and pets him behind the ears, her short nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

She makes herself at home, getting a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water from the tap, then clicking her fingers for him to follow her into the living room. She looks over their movie collection, examining the pictures on the mantle and poking around, almost certainly searching for the hidden buttons that reveal panels of weapons and Kingsman gadgetry. She’s never been in their house before, and Ginger is a curious woman by nature, so Tequila lets her explore for a minute.

But after a while, he shuffles up to her, knocking against her arm, wanting the petting back. Ginger must have forgotten him for a moment because she curses as she drops the glass, just barely catching it before it hits the floor. “Bad puppy,” she scolds, and Tequila cowers. “Look what you made me do.” She bends down to set it on the coffee table out of harm’s way, skirt pulling tight across her ass, and Tequila can’t help himself; working on instinct, he shuffles forward and humps up against her leg.

Ginger jerks upright, glass slipping through her fingers and almost falling again, and Tequila backs away, his half-hard cock bobbing between his legs, whining nervously. But rather than looking angry, Ginger chuckles. “Oh, is that why you’re being insufferable this morning?” She nudges the glass towards the center of the table, so it’s less at risk of being knocked over. “You’re a horny little puppy, is that it?”

Tequila whines and scratches at the floor. It’s very tempting to just rut down against it, but if he controls himself and behaves, maybe he’ll get a treat.

Ginger settles on the sofa, folding one leg over the other absentmindedly as she taps at the side of her glasses. Then she drums her fingers on the cushion, uncrosses her legs again, and says, “Alright, puppy, come here.”

Tequila all but leaps forward, crashing into her in his scramble to get up onto the couch. Ginger laughs at his gangly motions, and he licks her, a big slurp against her cheek. She pushes him playfully off. “No licking, or no belly rubs for you.”

Tequila immediately flops onto his back, knees apart, looking at her with his best pleading eyes. She huffs affectionately. “You’re so easy, puppy. Yes, alright, I’ll give you a little rub.” Tequila makes a happy sound as her fingernails scratch over his stomach, stroking gently at the flesh there. He wriggles, trying to get her hand a little lower, and she deliberately ignores him, cooing, “Yes, someone’s a very good puppy for me.”

Tequila squirms. His cock is leaking, fully hard now and spreading precum all along his stomach. It feels too sticky, his groin too tight, everything just shy of being truly uncomfortable. He reaches down himself, pawing, and Ginger bats him away. “Uh-uh,” she says. “I don’t think puppies touch themselves, do they? That’s for people to pet.” But finally, finally she obliges him, rubbing a firm hand along his throbbing erection. Tequila moans, bucking up happily into the pressure, and Ginger laughs. “That’s it. There’s my happy boy.”

All too quickly, it’s not enough. She’s petting, not stroking, and it’s not catching him right, not enough to be truly satisfying, and he whines again, whimpering and trying to buck up again without any leverage. Ginger catches on quickly and doesn’t tease him; she wraps her fingers around his cock and strokes, using the precum to slick the shaft and keeping her grip nice and tight.

Tequila has teased her before about ‘piano hands.’ Ginger’s fingers are long and dainty, good for fiddling with machines and even better for this. She works with her hands, so they’re not soft, but they’re not heavily calloused like his own either, just the perfect amount of rough and smooth, and that texture feels perfect jerking him off. He pants happily.

“Good puppy,” Ginger says. “Such a sweet boy for me. Are you going to come? That’s it, puppy, there we go.” And Tequila spills over her fingers without any fuss, his cum streaking a bit along his stomach and her lap.

“Look what a mess you’ve made,” Ginger complains, but there’s affection in her voice. “Well, you’re just going to have to clean it up.”

Tequila dives in, licking eagerly at the streaks of cum he’s left across her hand and clothes, sucking up every drop because nothing matters more than pleasing her. He sits back when he’s done, tongue lolling out and panting happily.

Ginger lifts an eyebrow. “Think you’re done, do you? You’ve made a much bigger mess than that, puppy.”

Tequila frowns, confused, and then Ginger spreads her knees and reaches up under her skirt. His heart misses a beat, and his cock twitches and makes a vain attempt to rise again. Her fingers come back slick and shiny. “See?” she says. “You’ve gotten me all wet. Bad puppy, making messes.”

Tequila licks at her fingers, trying to placate her. She smiles. “Alright, I forgive you. But only if you take care of it properly. Get it all cleaned up.” She turns on the couch, settling comfortably against the armrest, and spreads her legs expectantly, not bothering to ruck up her skirt, and Tequila holds himself still for just a moment before he lunges, shoving his bulky frame between her knees. She’s not wearing any panties, and he groans, licking eagerly between her folds, lapping at the slick he finds there and probably just making a bigger mess with his saliva but he can’t help it because she tastes so good and he wants to please her so badly.

Ginger moans as his tongue swipes along her clit, and she reaches down and fists his hair, pushing his face harder against her. Tequila can hardly breathe but he doesn’t care because she’s warm and wet and tastes sweet and salty and he could do this all day. He points his tongue and spears it lower, and Ginger’s breath hitches and she says, “Oh, _good_ puppy.”

If Tequila weren’t so far down – unable to talk for more reasons than one – he might have made a joke about humping, because that’s exactly what Ginger is doing, riding his face and apparently enjoying it very much. She’s dripping wet, her clit throbbing whenever he licks at her, and he seals his lips over it and sucks, making her gasp. “Oh. _Oh, oh,_ please, good puppy, don’t stop.”

Tequila obliges, sucking harder and whining because he can’t use his hands, but it doesn’t matter because the vibrations are enough. She cries out, still rocking against his mouth as she rides out her orgasm, and Tequila stops sucking but keeps licking gently until she pushes his mouth away, panting with exertion. Tequila sits back, head cocked, and watches her. She must have been fisting her own hair at some point because it’s a mess, sticking up in multiple directions. To hide a grin, Tequila lets his tongue fall out of his mouth again.

Ginger sits up, smoothing down her skirt, and tugs him into her arms, stroking her fingers over him and cooing, “Good puppy. Such a good, good boy. You did so well, made me feel so good.”

Tequila loves this part at least as much as the sex, and he makes a happy noise in his throat to let her know how much he appreciates it. She gives him one last pet, hands running down his arm, and then coaxes him onto the floor. He collapses into the kneeling position without any fuss, and she murmurs, “That’s it. There you go.” She keeps one hand on him and finds the remote with the other, flicking on the TV and turning down the volume until it’s barely audible, flopping back on the couch without the grace she normally exhibits.

“You good?” she asks him.

Tequila nods, not bothering to verbalize himself because he doesn’t need his safewords, and he’s absolutely fine with relaxing at her feet while she watches some TV. He shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position, and she takes one of the cushions and sets it on the floor, nudging it under his knees when he lifts up. When he settles again, it’s much better, and he drops his head and tunes out, feeling Ginger’s hand resting against his shoulders and using that as a grounding force.

He’s not sure how long it is before she moves her hand, sitting up and stretching before she turns the TV off. He rolls himself out, stretching without standing. His legs are stiff, but he feels good, rested in a way he only gets when he kneels.

“You okay?” Ginger asks, her voice gentle. She crouches down on the floor next to him, and he leans forward and nuzzles against her.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Eggsy said he fed you, but I haven’t eaten yet, so I’m going to go make myself some lunch. Do you need to be let out?”

Tequila shakes his head, and then shuffles after her into the kitchen. He settles on the floor by the table while she fixes herself a sandwich and then takes the seat he’s kneeling beside. As she eats, she sneaks him little pieces of turkey, just the way Eggsy does when he eats, and Tequila licks gratefully at her fingers as he swallows the treats.

She “lets him out” – code for pausing the scene so Tequila can use the bathroom because he’s not actually into the idea of doing _that_ as a dog – after lunch, but then he goes right back down again. Ginger gives him one of his toys, a bone designed for him to chew on (as long as he doesn’t bite hard, it won’t ruin his teeth), and he lays by the couch at her feet, bone between his paws and gnawing on it absently while she flicks through a magazine from her bag. Every so often she reaches down to scratch behind his ears, and Tequila pauses in his chewing to lean up into the sensation.

“It’s a shame the weather is so overcast,” Ginger comments idly. “We could have gone for a walk.”

Tequila sits up on his heels, abandoning the bone and cocking his head eagerly at the word. He blinks up at her hopefully, and Ginger laughs and ruffles his hair. “Sorry, puppy. I’m not taking you out in the rain.”

Tequila huffs noncommittally and flops back down, blinking up at her with big eyes, and Ginger laughs again. “Well, if I can’t take you out, I might as well play with you a little. I’m sure Eggsy would like it better if I tired you out, so you’re not rowdy when he gets home.”

He barks to let her know just how in favor of that idea he is, and she pats his head. “Let me go find something in the toy box.”

Tequila shuffles along at her heels, eager to see what she picks, and he’s rewarded with his favorite squeaky ball. Ginger holds it up over his nose and he rears up, trying to bite at it, but she yanks it out of reach. “Does puppy want the ball?”

He barks again, going down into play stance. He wants it. He wants it bad.

“Go get it!” She tosses it, and Tequila whips around, chasing after it as best he can on his knees. A few feet away, he stop, frowning and looking around. He turns back when he hears muffled giggles, and Ginger is biting her lip to keep from laughing, tossing the ball back and forth between her hands. Tequila growls low in his throat, and Ginger smiles. “I’m sorry, puppy. I couldn’t resist.”

This time she actually throws the ball – he hears it bounce – and Tequila takes off after it. He corners it in the hallway, and it takes a moment to wrap his jaw around it before he can bring it back to her, dropping it at her feet and sitting down with a thump, looking up at her expectantly.

She throws the ball a dozen or so more times, and eventually Tequila starts to slow down, until the last time he brings the ball back, he doesn’t chase after it when she throws it, just looks up at her and stays still.

“You done playing?”

He nods.

Ginger reaches down to give him a pat. “Alright. Let me go get the ball, and then we can relax.” She goes to do that, and Tequila makes his way up the stairs.

He’s not supposed to do this, he knows, but he’s kind of tired and in the back of his mind there’s a floating thought that if he does it, he’ll get the thing he really wants. So he noses his way into the bedroom and hops up on the bed. He gets comfortable, and then lays down to wait.

After a minute, he can hear Ginger calling through the house. “Puppy? Where’d you go?”

He doesn’t answer, and a few seconds later he hears her footsteps coming up the stairs. “Puppy?”

She pushes open the bedroom door. “Hey!”

Tequila hates that voice, and he whimpers and slinks off the bed.

It doesn’t seem to make her happy. “Bad puppy,” Ginger scolds. “You know you’re not allowed on the bed. I went easy on you last time, but if you’re not going to listen to me, then I’m going to have to show you what happens to bad puppies.”

Tequila cowers, even as his cock twitches back to life, swelling up at the thought of what’s about to happen. He whines and lowers himself to the floor, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

Ginger shakes her head. “No amount of begging is getting you out of this.” She reaches for the bedroom toy box, too high for him to see from his position on the ground, and brings out a rolled-up newspaper. Tequila whimpers and scooches backwards before she catches him by the collar and holds him still. “Uh-uh. You were a very bad puppy, and you’re going to be punished. Trying to run away is just going to make this worse for you.”

Tequila fights against her grip anyway, until a sharp bob across his nose makes him freeze. Ginger’s eyes are narrowed. “Alright.” She puts the newspaper away and lets go of him, fishing for something else in the toy box and holding it behind her so Tequila can’t see it. She sits on the bed and pats her lap with her free hand. “You wanted to be on the bed so badly? Come up here.”

Tequila whines, but she snaps her fingers sharply and he obeys, slinking up onto the bed and positioning himself over her lap. She runs a soothing hand down his spine, and he relaxes slightly into the petting. “I’m sorry,” she coos. “I really didn’t want to have to do this, but if I don’t, how will you learn?”

Before Tequila can react to that statement, a cracking blow comes down across his ass, and he lurches forward, yelping in surprise. Ginger grips his collar and holds him still, shifting her grip on the paddle. “Bad puppies have to be taught a lesson,” she reminds him. “I’m going to give you fourteen more. That’s ten for breaking the rules in the first place, and another five for trying to get out of being punished for it. You’re going to take it like a good puppy, and if you do then you get a treat at the end, alright?”

Tequila whimpers and nods. “Good boy,” Ginger coos. “That’s it.” And she brings the paddle down again.

Ginger spanks him differently than Eggsy does. With Eggsy it’s random, no pattern to it, but Ginger is methodical, hitting the same spot a few times, just until it’s smarting enough he can’t really feel it, before moving on to another location. She counts them out for him, pausing at ten. He’s whimpering, head bowed, but everything feels lovely and light. Her hand on his collar is the only thing keeping him from floating away. He feels his cock, aching and dripping precum all over Ginger’s skirt, but he doesn’t care about it, because all that matters is the burning feeling of his ass and Ginger’s handling.

“We could have stopped here,” she says. “And you’ve been so good for me, I’m almost tempted to. But I promised you fifteen, and you won’t really learn your lesson if I stop partway through, will you?” Her voice is pitched lower now, soothing, and Tequila relaxes back, a low rumble in his throat the only indicator he heard her.

The next blow comes without warning, and it’s lower, no longer the paddle but her bare hand, and it feels sharper and different and Tequila’s cock jerks. He howls, arching back, canting his hips to let her know he’s okay with it, and the next three come in the same place, burning so close to where he really wants her palm.

The last hit lands right across his balls and he sobs because it feels so good, the pleasure and pain blurring together, and she pets at him and coos distantly, “Oh, such a good boy for me, you took that so well. Such a good puppy, do you want your treat now?”

He whimpers and then yelps when he feels her hand circling his cock, bringing him back down, his attention suddenly laser focused on how badly it aches, how desperately he needs to come. She shushes him and she strokes, still cooing. “That’s it. Come anytime, puppy, you did so well.”

He’s still sobbing when he paints her fist and skirt with his cum, completely overwhelmed by the sensation. He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Ginger moves him, laying him out on the bed and petting his hair and down his spine. She keeps one hand on him as she fishes out the lotion Eggsy always uses after this, rubbing it carefully onto his cheeks to help with the burning. She doesn’t say anything, just keeps her hands on him like instructed.

Eventually he comes back to himself, and Ginger seems to recognize the shift, because she murmurs, “You were such a good puppy. You took your punishment very well.”

He makes a half-hearted huff of pleasure, wanting her to know how much he appreciates it. Ginger carefully coaxes him off the bed and down onto his knees again. “I think puppy has earned a nice bath. Come on, there’s a good boy.”

Tequila follows her down the hallway, shuffling slowly because he still aches and moving too fast makes it worse. It gives Ginger an opportunity to start filling up the tub, and the water is nice and warm when she helps him into it.

He closes his eyes, relishing the feeling as she takes a cloth and rubs it over his body, not so much to clean him as for the sensation of it. It helps him settle, focus in more fully, and he allows it to lull him. Even the touch to his cock, wiping off what cum the water did not, doesn’t stir him. It’s not sexual anymore, just caring, and it’s perfect.

Eventually, the water starts to cool, and Ginger pulls the plug, helping him out again and wiping him down with a fluffy towel. He shakes at her for the heck of it, water droplets in his hair landing on her legs and skirt. He’s made a mess of it already, so he doubts she’ll mind too much.

“Bedtime for puppies,” she tells him. She guides him back downstairs onto the sofa and covers him with a blanket, stroking her hand once more through his hair before she murmurs, “I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t really notice her go, and when he wakes up again, light is streaming in through the living room windows. Eggsy leans over him, grinning. “Good morning, pet. Were you a good boy for Ginger?”

Tequila blinks sleepily at him, letting his tongue loll out in a pant, and Eggsy laughs. “Let’s take your collar off, alright?” Tequila lets him, and when it’s off he rolls into an upright position, stretching out and tucking the blanket back up over his lap.

“Ginger still here?” he asks. His voice feels a little odd, like it always does after a day of not using it.

Eggsy nods. “She’s in the kitchen. She wanted to make sure you were good before she left. Debrief the scene.”

“Well, Lizzie’s a professional.” Tequila tests his legs, then stands up slowly. Eggsy wraps an arm around his elbow, making sure he’s steady, and Tequila doesn’t really need it, but he appreciates the gesture.

Ginger is in sweatpants and a different blouse from yesterday, leaning against the kitchen counter eating toast. She smiles at him when he enters the room. “Good morning, Tequila.”

“Morning, Lizzie.”

“You sleep okay?”

He nods and sits down at the table, stretching out his legs. Eggsy hops up on the kitchen counter and leans back against the cabinets. “So.”

“You were watching,” Ginger says.

“I was.”

“Did I do okay?”

“You did perfectly.” Tequila is the one who answers, and Ginger looks to him. “You were great,” he says. “You followed the list, and you paid attention to what I needed. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Ginger says. “I’m just honored you let me share this with you.”

“If Tequila’s alright with it, I would be fine with you pet-sitting him again,” Eggsy says. He glances towards Tequila, who nods.

“I’d be fine with that. Just let us know.”

“I certainly will.” Ginger stands. “I should probably go. I just wanted to make sure Tequila was alright.”

“My ass is a little sore, and my knees are a little stiff, but other than that I’m just peachy.” He grins at her. “I’m gonna feel that paddling for a few days. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

Ginger smirks back. “A girl has to keep a few secrets for herself. I’ll see you around, boys.”

“Bye, Ginger.”

“Bye Lizzie.”

She closes the door gently behind her, and Tequila grins at Eggsy. “So. You know I had fun. How about you? You watch any of it?”

“Babe, you’re fucking gorgeous. ‘Course I watched it. Besides, I had to make sure she was treating you right.”

“And?”

“And, watching her spank you is one of the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Tequila tilts his head, giving Eggsy his best puppy-dog eyes. “You know, I was a bit out of it, so I didn’t really get to see what was going on.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes at the blatantly suggestive tone. “You want to watch it?”

“I really do. Want to watch it with me?”

“Yeah, alright. But only if you stay naked.”

Tequila’s grin widens. “Baby, you don’t even have to ask.”


End file.
